It’s very loud in my head, and the noise is very distracting. I forget things easily, I lose track of things easily. When I’m writing I could go on a tangent and forget my original point effortlessly. I’m an introvert, so I internalize almost all the stimuli around me, and that’s why there are so many thoughts. When I’m aware of them I feel like my head will burst, and maybe if that happens it might be a relief to exist without a physical body. Then I would be something completely different.

Music helps me focus. I guess it’s my Adderall. It narrows down my range of emotions down to the emotions expressed in the song, and while the song is playing, I work less at keeping those emotions on the surface, the same emotions that would sink to the bottom in competition with my many other fleeting thoughts.

But this isn’t a world where being able to feel something counts as productive. I would need to be able to express those emotions. Unfortunately my ability to feel has surpassed my ability to express. Maybe the reason why I feel so heavy is because my body has dammed up things that should have been allowed to flow freely. For whatever reason I have been too caught up with the event of feeling, and did not give enough importance to translating those feelings.

Perhaps because I felt that no one would care? Or because I felt that I might be ridiculed?

Even as I’m writing this I am being used by the words that I’m speaking with. Because thoughts are not the same medium as words, the act of expressing myself is an act of translation, and my vocabulary has restricted the spectrum of ideas I am able to express. You don’t know the degree of jealousy and respect I feel towards the people who have gained the ability to translate their thoughts with grace and elegance, into both written and oral language.

Because I think when a notion first appears to you it appears as a feeling, an emotion, like intuition and as you become more aware of it you begin to formulate this notion into words. I wish someone would teach me how to do this with skill because maybe after I’ve learned how to do this it wouldn’t be so chaotic inside my head.

But does the chaos originate from my thoughts or from somewhere less logical?

I thought this blog was meant to be a place of liberation, but somehow I’ve manage to make my words heavier than my physical body.

This isn’t right.

Where can my thoughts go to be by itself, free from my flesh, but still able to have material?

Maybe WordPress is just too professional a setting for my fleeting thoughts. It’s so concrete, and I am fickle.

[Insert long philosophical sigh] I guess I’m still not sure who I am yet, or I am in that ridiculously awkward phase of transition. A work in progress indeed (although that is no longer relevant since my blog is no longer called a work in progress. I think I’m going to go change it back).

After I climbed out of that pit that was 2011 I don’t really like to gripe about how shitty life is because I have rediscovered things in life that I want to do again, but because of school I actually wish I was dead so I don’t have to deal with it.

I’ve pinpointed a sign of relapse into the “bad place”, and that’s an unquenchable thirst to play games. This is actually how I dealt with the Bad Year. Gaming provides “cheap thrills” while wasting a lot of time that I cannot afford, especially when I need to be working on other stuff. There was a period of time at the end of summer 2012 when I was so motivated to work on my personal projects that there was no need for “cheap thrills”. I had absolutely no desire to play any kind of games whatsoever, because there was something more productive out there that is both rewarding and exciting for me to do.

Now that I find myself tormented by academic obligations, the warning symptoms are slowly beginning to creep up on me.

I keep saying that I’ll stop ranting about school, because school is something that I have to get through, and complaining is counter productive, but when it comes down to it, school is just not a place where I thrive. It’s slowly eating me alive and making me hate everything.

But I’m not saying school is wrong. There are people who are masters at it, people who are more patient, more tolerant, and have greater abilities of undergoing hardships, and even people who have moved past it and are able to utilize school for their own means; people who are natural geniuses, who are tuned into the academic frequency. I’m just saying it’s just not right for me.

So what do I do?

I’ve found motivations for life, for happiness and for the creative processes. I’ve been trying to find motivations for school, and every now and then I think I’ve honed in on one, because although I believe I’m mostly self-sufficient in most other aspects of life, I am heavily reliant on inspirators as a motivational force.

Perhaps the inspiration comes from a certain text that I have to read, or from a professor, or a fellow student, but the inspiration is short-lived. In the end my degree of not caring is greater than the inspiration. Is this possibly because I am in a major that I don’t thoroughly enjoy? I should wish that it was, but I’ve explored many fields of my faculty (the only faculty in which I believe I belong: Arts). For visual arts I felt that a grading system was pointless and the students pretentious, and I was creatively blocked for a year by taking creative writing courses because of the narrow style the program focused on. At a basic level, PSYC is the only department that I have an affinity for, but regardless of how much I like it, I simply do not excel in an academic environment.

Does this sound like I’m making excuses for being stupid? Maybe. I certain feel stupid when I’m on campus. I also feel a lot of pressure from people that assume my loyalty to academia because of my enrolment in university.

What am I even talking about any more? I have a midterm and a presentation tomorrow, and I would like to sleep before midnight, but I don’t see that happening.

But by writing this I’m not trying to come to any solutions or concrete answers. What I’m going through isn’t an object problem that could be solved, it’s more of a subjective, internal dilemma that will probably continue until I’m done with school. Talking about it like this just makes me feel better, most of the time.

Then why post it on a blog instead of writing it down in a journal somewhere if I’m not looking for answers? I guess it’s a natural narcissistic tendency. It makes me feel better to imagine that perhaps someone might read this and that might ignite a certain train of thought in them, and that I was responsible for that spark of internal monologue. It’s not like I’m really expecting something truly profound to happen, it is just helpful to imagine it.

That’s how I am motivated most of the time. A = something that I want to one day achieve. B = a source of inspiration (could be unrelated or related), either a person, a piece of artwork or an event. C = the potential of what could be in relation to B if I achieve A. I don’t know why I used letters to substitute those things, because there isn’t really any formula that happens. I guess A + B creates C in my mind, which creates D the motivation which might make A true some day. I don’t think I’m making any sense.

An example would be: A = I want a ferret. A source of inspiration (B) could be a person with a cool ferret. C would be dreaming that if I had a ferret, then I could go to the cool ferret conference and meet that cool ferret. D would be the motivation which will make me work for the money to buy the ferret, which might render C true in a universe where there are cool ferret conferences.